


Deeper Than Skin

by goldieknocks



Series: Chaos Dave [2]
Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, Chaos Dave, Character Study, Confessions, Dave 'I'll worry about that when it becomes a problem' Katz, Dave-centric, Declarations Of Love, Drug Use, Drugs, Emotional Vulnerability, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Humor, Klaus 'I got a tattoo for a boy I've known less than a year' Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & David "Dave" Katz During Vietnam, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Oral Sex, POV David "Dave" Katz, Period-Typical Homophobia, Recreational Drug Use, Sex, Soft Boys, Tattoos, Vietnam War, talking about feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-16
Packaged: 2021-03-24 12:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,486
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30072321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldieknocks/pseuds/goldieknocks
Summary: Dave has made a name for himself around the base as a decent tattoo artist. He does it just for kicks, and only occasionally messes them up on purpose.Klaus and Dave are exploring their relationship, and somehow Klaus ends up with three new tattoos.Or, Klaus and Dave’s relationship is mapped out in Klaus’ tattoos.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/David "Dave" Katz
Series: Chaos Dave [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2165760
Comments: 29
Kudos: 37





	Deeper Than Skin

**Author's Note:**

> Alright, this is the second installment of my Chaos Dave series. You don't need to read the first installment to understand this one, but there are references to events in the first fic of the series. 
> 
> This fic focuses on the rest of their relationship in Vietnam, specifically through tattoos and their significance in Dave and Klaus' relationship. This one is a bit more fluffy and emotionally angsty than the last one, but I hope you enjoy anyway!

“Hey, Tiger!” 

Klaus reaches up to pull at one of Dave’s curls; he can feel it spring back against his forehead. His hair is not regulation, and he knows Sarge will order him to get a haircut any day. Meanwhile, Klaus has become obsessed with taking any opportunity to pull at his curls. 

“You ready to head to Long Binh and become a rear echelon motherfucker?” Klaus grins at him. Dave thinks he looks tired. Hell, Dave knows he feels tired - exhausted - and just so, so empty. This last operation has been FUBAR from start to finish. 

Their company is leaving behind Dak To where they spent most of October and November in the dense jungle and rice paddies; they spent the tail-end of the wet season fighting long, hard-won battles amongst the rain and the mud and the blood.

Dave can still feel the acrid burn and gasoline-like smell of the napalm; he can hear the whirring beats of the chinook’s propellers as he prepares to parachute into enemy territory. They’re the airborne brigade; their mission was to jump into areas only accessible by air due to the terrain. Dave and his men had to fight their way out without ground support, so the only thing they could rely on were their brothers-in-arms. 

Dave can still feel the adrenaline dump and jitters of anticipation as he and Klaus huddle in their hooch, eyes peering out above the barrels of their M16s into the foliage as they lay in wait for enemy contact. It was dirty, terrifying, bloody work, and Dave is glad to see the back of Dak To and Operation Greeley. 

Dave has lost all naive notions of glory in war or dying a hero in this place. The war is futile, and Dave knows that he and the men beside him are fodder in an ideological game of chess. Their company had suffered heavy casualties in Dak To, and Dave has spent the last few weeks watching friends and brothers-in-arms die agonising deaths while he stared on, helpless. 

They lost Junior just two weeks ago in this shit. Hit by a mortar round, there was little left to identify Junior except for the misspelt tattoo Dave had given him back when they were last at Long Binh.

Klaus is doing his best to keep morale up with his jokes and false enthusiasm, but the whole squad is worn thin at this point. Even Klaus seems to vacillate wildly between false cheer and abject terror since losing Junior. Dave has sat with him through constant nightmares, not to mention Klaus seems intent on self-medicating his way through this deployment until they reach Long Binh again. At this point, Dave also relies on his pep pills to get him up each day and into his boots. 

It will be good for their squad to be in the rear for a bit. Dave knows that they’ve seen too much active combat in recent months. He is also hopeful that being stationed on base without the daily threat of death will afford him and Klaus some much needed time alone.

While out in the jungle, Dave clings to his memories of their time in Saigon. He often spends his nights on watch or lying awake in their hooch - Klaus next to him, so close yet too far - replaying his memories of the three days they spent together on liberty. Dave remembers holing up in their hotel room, discovering each other’s bodies, teasing and giggling their way through the awkward parts and the intense rush Dave felt when he and Klaus found their _rhythm_. He has never experienced anything like it, and the memory of their time together is something he cherishes. 

They’ve been living in such close quarters and with no privacy while on patrol, unable to do much more together in the last few months. Dave is comforted by the fact that Klaus will take any opportunity he can find to steal a quick kiss whenever they’re able to sneak away from the rest of the squad. It has been freeing to suddenly let go and let himself pursue whatever this thing with Klaus is. Despite it being new for Dave, he’s excited to see the path their relationship takes - he hopes Long Binh and time away from the front line will have more to offer them.

Klaus claps his hand on Dave’s shoulder, breaking his train of thought. “Hello? Cat got your tongue? Or should I say tiger got your tongue?” 

Dave chuckles at the nickname, something Klaus bestowed upon him while in Saigon. One night, he’d gotten too fucked up on Tiger beer, and Klaus had to drag him back to the motel. The following day, Dave had some serious regrets about his drink choice, which he’d aired while hugging the toilet bowl as he puked his guts out. Klaus sat beside him, patting Dave’s back, teasing Dave mercilessly by reminding Dave that he got what he deserved for drinking the worst quality beer Vietnam has to offer.

Klaus lives to tease Dave mercilessly, so the nickname has stuck ever since.

Dave smirks, his focus back on the conversation, “Nah, just thinking about all the storage sheds we’ll have access to now that we’re REMFs.”

______

Life at Long Binh is markedly different from the reality Dave has been living these last few months. The base is a sprawling mini-city, offering soldiers many amusements and distractions as they count down the days till their tour is up. The whole squad is assigned to run logistics and transport operations from Saigon. Their role is to accompany the large cargo trucks heading north in case of an ambush by the NVA.

Dave spends his day riding in the trucks with Klaus, shooting the shit and keeping watch over the supplies they’re transporting. At night, the squad goes bowling, plays basketball, or hit the base’s self-contained nightclubs for some fun. Things seem lighter here. Dave feels like he can breathe again. 

For once, the whole squad is together hanging out on an isolated loading dock with a case of beers after finishing their day’s duty. Klaus jokingly purchased a bottle of Tiger Beer while on the booze run, and he hands it off to Dave with a cackle. Dave doesn’t care; three times out of four, Tiger is pretty drinkable. Tonight he’s sitting with Klaus as he sips his beer, legs dangling over the ledge of the dock; Klaus is sprawled out on his back across the cement beside him with one knee crossed over the other, smoking a joint.

“Hey Katz,” Boots catches his attention, “You still have your tattoo gun?”

Dave swallows his mouthful of beer with a grimace. “Naw, man, but they’re pretty easy to make. I can jerry-rig one up; no sweat. What did you have in mind?” 

The last time they were stationed in Long Binh, Dave had made a name for himself around the base as a decent tattoo artist. Truthfully, Dave does it just for kicks, but he’s gotten pretty nifty at military-style tattoos to the point where he’s pretty interested in learning other styles if he got the chance. Other soldiers ask Dave to break out his homemade tattoo gun pretty regularly, and he only fucks them up occasionally, which keeps things fun. Poor Junior had been the most recent soldier to fall victim to Dave’s antics, but he certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Boots takes a swig of his can and looks down at his lap, “I thought we could all get a tattoo to honour Junior, you know, his 173rd Airborne tattoo you did? But without the dick this time.” 

Klaus snickers from his spot on the ground, flicking away the ash of his joint. When he speaks, his voice is a high-pitched giggle, “You know, some days, it’s almost like I can still hear his voice. Like he’s still with us!”

Dave looks at Klaus worriedly; he’s taken Junior’s death particularly hard. Ever since Klaus has taken to muttering under his breath, and Dave has occasionally caught him having hushed conversations with thin air. Dave swears that he hears Klaus talking to Junior from time-to-time, late at night, when the rest of the squad is asleep. It’s worrying; Dave has seen men lose their wits out here, but Klaus still keeps a distance, and Dave is at a loss over how to broach the subject with him. 

Dave turns his attention back to Boots, “Yeah, man, that’s a cool idea. I have a little sketch I’ve been working on; it would make a great 173rd tattoo. Junior would have loved it...” Here his voice trails off, momentary melancholy in the air.

Dave rattles off a list of items he needs for his homemade tattoo gun, and the squad agrees to search and rescue them while Klaus and Dave volunteer to stay behind and guard the beer. Apparently, their ploy for privacy works. Once they’re alone, Dave repositions himself, so he’s propped up on his side, making it easy for him to quickly swoop in for a kiss. 

Klaus snorts softly through his nose, startled by Dave’s lips against his own. He quickly recovers and returns the kiss enthusiastically, mouth turning up into a smile against Dave’s own, their noses bumping slightly. Klaus’ hand comes up to rest softly against Dave’s cheek, and he can’t help but sigh and press his own hand on Klaus’ chest to keep his balance. There’s something special about Klaus. Every time they kiss, Dave’s brain feels fuzzy and his heart races. They bump noses again, but this time Klaus lets out a chuckle, and Dave pulls away reluctantly before sitting up. 

Klaus gazes up at him, his eyes red-rimmed and his body relaxed from both the weed and beer. “Where do you think I should get my tattoo?” 

“How about on your ass?” Dave asks, smirking, “I don’t know about the rest of the squad, but I’d enjoy the show while I worked.” 

Klaus throws his head back and laughs from his belly before turning back to him, eyes bright with mirth, “Tiger, you’re the master tattooist; I am but your canvas.” 

Then he waves a hand vaguely, “No, seriously Dave, you pick where it goes. You’re the artist.” 

Dave leans forward, checking that they’re still out of the eyesight of anyone else, before reaching his hands under Klaus’ flak jacket, inspecting his bare torso. He runs his palm over Klaus’ exposed throat before leaning down to lightly kiss the spot behind his ear; Klaus shivers as Dave leaves a tiny lick at the sensitive spot. “It could go here…” 

Dave moves on, running his hand over Klaus’ left pec before replacing his hand with his lips right above Klaus’ nipple, “Or here…” 

Lastly, Dave looks up at Klaus from under his lashes. Klaus has propped himself up on his elbows, and he stares down at Dave, pupils blown wide with desire. Fingers brush the soft skin where Klaus’ low-slung fatigues do their best to maintain Klaus’ modesty, and Dave places a soft kiss just above the button fly, where Klaus’ pubic hair peeks out above the waistband. The toned muscles of Klaus’ belly jump at the contact, and he squirms, groaning slightly with obvious arousal. 

“Or even here,” he whispers.

Unfortunately, their fun is cut short. Dave hears voices carrying on the air and immediately stops, pulling himself back into a sitting position, while Klaus lets out a frustrated sigh beside him. Could the guys have _worse_ timing? Dave is not going to get laid again until his tour is over if they keep showing up and ‘cockblocking’ him - a phrase that Klaus has taught him and seems perfectly apt for their current situation. 

The squad rounds the corner into sight, and Dave can’t help but smirk as Klaus shuffles around uncomfortably before adjusting himself in his fatigues. 

Dave helps Klaus sit up with a clap on the shoulder, speaking loudly, “Yeah, man, I think what I have in mind will look boss on your bicep.” 

Klaus shoots him a dour look at being left in the lurch, but Dave just ignores him and flips open his fatigue pocket to pull out a small notepad - one he uses for field assignments and, more importantly, doodling. 

He flips the pad open to a drawing of a realistic-looking skull with jungle foliage and a machine gun behind it, above it a banner with the words’ 173rd Airborne Brigade, Sky Soldiers.’

“Dave! You didn’t tell me you were a secret artist!” Klaus’ jaw drops, and he rips the notepad out of Dave’s hands. He brings the drawing up to his face and stares intently. 

Dave can’t help but blush slightly as Klaus heaps praise upon him; he’d never been complimented for his creativity until he met Klaus. His father and uncle always encouraged him to have ‘manly’ hobbies, with art being seen as an inappropriate pastime for a young boy despite Dave’s talent. It’s nice to hear someone - Klaus especially - compliment his skills and encourage his artistic side.

Doc comes up beside Dave and hands him the requested equipment. From there, Dave takes over and starts breaking down the spoon to act as a brace and attaching a guiding tube - a mechanical pencil - to the motor Boots has found. 

For a few minutes, Dave works quietly, just focusing on his task and taking in the comments the guys make about his tattoo design with pride. This tattoo is special, something to honour their fallen friend, and Dave will do his best to make sure it’s a worthy memorial. When he’s ready, he lifts his head and looks to Klaus, “Alright, Spook, you’re up first.” 

Klaus flails a bit, scrambling to get in position in front of Dave, legs crossed and left shoulder facing Dave. Klaus peels off his flak jacket, exposing the long expanse of his slim torso and his arms which have toned up considerably due to the hard labor of hauling shit around the jungle for months on end. 

Dave takes a moment to intently study his sketch. He needs to focus on something else, or he’ll find himself in trouble with Klaus’ body exposed and his mind still fixating on the private moment that was rudely interrupted. Dave gets himself under control, taking a deep breath to calm the nerves that have arisen at the prospect of tattooing Klaus. He picks up his spare ballpoint pen and starts lightly sketching out the design on Klaus’ arm.

Now focused on the task at hand, Dave fires up the tattoo gun, inspects his canvas, and gets to work. Dave can hear Klaus and the guys chatting and shooting the shit while he tattoos, but he’s not really paying attention. He really wants to do a good job, and he’s feeling the pressure. Dave’s hand is shaking slightly with nerves, so he braces his hand with his free arm. 

Klaus’ tattoo needs to be perfect. Dave _can’t_ ruin his beautiful skin with a piece-of-shit tattoo. How can he look Klaus in the eye ever again if he fucks up? 

Dave takes a beat and wipes a drop of sweat from his forehead with the crook of his arm. He repositions the tattoo gun in his hand and goes back in to carefully trace the letters at the top of the design. Dave gets into the flow of the needle inking thin black lines and the feel of Klaus’ skin beneath his hands. Klaus sits like a champ, barely moving or squirming under Dave’s ministrations with the needle. 

Dave is focused so intently on his work that he doesn’t notice he’s poked his tongue out between his lips until Klaus reaches up with his opposite hand and pinches the tip of Dave’s tongue between his fingers. Dave jerks; his needle skitters off course while Klaus bursts into laughter. 

He sputters, “Klaus!” Dave leans forward to inspect his work while Klaus laughs at the reaction he received from his antics. Dave notes there’s a minor mistake in the linework, but it’s not unsalvageable. He shoots Klaus a glare, “Don’t! I’m trying to make this actually look good, Spook. If I fuck it up, you’ll never forgive me. Junior didn’t.” 

Klaus hums in approval and settles back in as Dave resumes his work. 

Dave spends the next few hours giving all the squad members the same tattoo in memory of Junior. By the time he’s done, he’s exhausted and sweaty with the humidity as night sets in, crickets and cicadas creating a pleasant hum in the air as the sun starts to fall below the horizon. 

Dave leans back against the concrete wall of the loading dock and cracks a new beer. He gazes at his handiwork on each of the men, all of them decent tattoos but Klaus’ is definitely his best work yet. He took time and care to make sure that Klaus got a tattoo Dave could be proud of. 

The squad gather up their belongings and left-over beers and make their way back to the barracks. Klaus has just lit up another joint, so he stays put next to Dave and offers to share. Dave takes the blunt and takes a hit before passing it back to Klaus. They sit in companionable silence until the other guys are gone, taking turns to tokes until they’re down to the roach. Klaus stubs it out on his boot, body loose and long-limbed in his movements. 

Apropos of nothing, Klaus swings himself up and over Dave’s legs, situating himself in his lap before smashing his lips to Dave’s and grinding his pelvis down into Dave’s crotch. Dave lets out a whimper, breath escaping him as he adjusts to the unexpected intimacy. Klaus squirms above him, hands roving across Dave’s stomach to touch and tease the skin under the hem of Dave’s T-shirt. 

Klaus pulls back slightly, breaths coming in short little pants, and Dave takes in his blown pupils with only the tiniest slivers of green iris remaining. “God, Tiger...who would have thought I’d end up going steady with a tattoo artist? This is so responsible of me, you don’t even know.” 

Dave brings his hands up to cup Klaus’ face, his thumbs brushing against the soft skin of Klaus’ cheekbones. “I would have done this sooner if I knew it was going to get me laid.” 

Klaus plants a quick peck on Dave’s lips and then, with a wink, grinds hard into Dave’s lap before shimmying his way down until his face is level with Dave’s fly. Dave swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing; Klaus has taken this from 0 to 60 real quick, and all Dave can do is hold on for the ride. 

He jerks at the sensation of Klaus’ long fingers reaching into his fatigues to grasp his erection. Klaus’ hand moves down to the base of Dave’s cock, and then all his brain registers is Klaus’ hot, wet mouth around him -

“Klaus, fucking hell!” Dave throws his head back and uses all his remaining willpower to keep his hips still. Klaus just hums in response and continues his ministrations, and Dave can’t help but thrust lightly into Klaus’ mouth. 

Dave looks down at the top of Klaus’ head, bobbing up and down as he pays close attention to the head of Dave’s cock. Dave feels a sudden and intense surge of affection for this man; Klaus is so giving when it comes to physical affection and is always so generous to Dave when they’re together like this. 

Dave feels an overwhelming need to reach out and touch.

He places a hand at the side of Klaus’s head, fingers tangling in the unruly, curly mess of hair and nails scratching lightly at Klaus’ scalp. Klaus lets out a hum of pleasure at the contact before pulling off and meeting Dave’s gaze with heavy-lidded eyes. 

“Jesus Christ Klaus, you’re going to be the death of me,” Dave’s breath is shallow, and his whole body is on fire with his arousal in the muggy evening air. Klaus just smiles impishly, and Dave takes a moment to catch his breath and gather his thoughts while Klaus unbuttons his own trousers and takes himself in hand before resuming his attention on Dave. 

Klaus presses his tongue into the slit, and Dave whimpers, his hand falling away from Klaus’ head and he throws his head back against the wall, resting his forearm across his eyes. Klaus hollows his cheeks and takes Dave further in, lips stretched wide and tongue stroking the underside of his dick and causing sparks of pleasure to radiate up his spine. 

Dave’s brain is fuzzy; all he really registers is the hot, wet suction, and that he’s making pitiful whines in the back of his throat. He looks down from under his arm to see Klaus is pleasuring himself with his free hand, letting out little breathy moans around Dave’s cock. 

The sight of Klaus also enjoying himself unlocks something within Dave, and pressure builds deep in his gut as Klaus sinks further down, swallowing around him, his throat a tight pressure grasping the head of Dave’s dick. 

Dave’s breaths are shallow pants now, and he reaches his other hand back down to press into the top of Klaus’ head. It’s game over once Klaus lets out a throaty moan, sending Dave’s whole body into overdrive. Klaus moves a hand to still Dave’s hips as his orgasm rushes through him, and Dave feels like his brain is melting out his fucking ears. 

Dave keeps his forearm firmly pressed to his brow, and the fingers of his other hand grasp at Klaus’ hair. Dave’s thoughts fly apart as Klaus swallows, his throat still working around him, and Dave has just enough of his wits about him to look down and watch Klaus find his own release. He is so fucking beautiful like this.

Right at the point of ‘too much’, Klaus pulls off with a wet pop and brings his hand up to swipe at the cum and saliva that’s gathered at the corner of his mouth. Dave’s body and brain are not communicating again yet, and all he can do is sit propped against the wall, thoughts hazy, while Klaus cleans up himself before tucking Dave away and moving back up Dave’s legs to perch in his lap once again. 

Dave grins up at Klaus with a lazy smile, his breaths starting to even out again, and Klaus reaches up to play with Dave’s hair, fingers gently carding through the short curls above his temple. Dave lets out a low whistle, “I guess that’s what I get for fucking around earlier, huh?” 

Klaus lets out an airy laugh and presses his face into Dave’s neck just below his jaw, planting soft kisses along the vulnerable parts of his throat. God Klaus has the weirdest sayings sometimes, but they’re part of his charm, and he’s taught Dave a few. 

“The very definition of fuck around and find out, I’d say.” 

Klaus snorts out a laugh into Dave’s neck before pulling back and smirking, “Did you really think you were going to _get away_ with it?” 

Dave snorts softly and tilts his head up to bring their lips together in a soft, lazy kiss, his heart full and head swimming in Klaus’ presence. Dave thinks briefly about the hardship of the last few months and the fear and exhaustion that has clung to him through it all. Having Klaus by his side has made the burdens of the Vietnam War a bit easier to bear.

______

“Ow, fuck!” 

Dave rubs vigorously at the singed hairs of his left arm as the distinctive stench of burnt hair mixed with the sharp odour of the gasoline which Dave had just used to stoke the fire under the hotplates of the grill. 

The whoosh of fire that rose up out of the grill and Dave’s exclamation draws the attention of the rest of the squad, who look over at him. Dave rubs the back of his neck and sheepishly remarks, “I suppose that’s one way to get the grill going...” 

The guys laugh and return to their game of cards while Klaus levers himself off the bench seat and ambles over to where Dave is putting burgers on the grill. Life in Long Binh sure is different from the last few months in Dak To.

“Christ on a cracker, Katz, do I need to wrap you up in bubble wrap?” Klaus says as he bends down to light his cigarette on the flame. Dave is sorely tempted to crank the heat in response to Klaus’ snark, but Dave would then have to listen to Klaus’ whining if he lost an eyebrow or scorched his beard. 

“Naw, I got the grill lit, it’s not a problem.” 

Klaus steals a piece of corn and pops it into his mouth with a smirk. He leans against the support post of the mod tent they’ve gathered under for dinner, his long legs crossed at the ankle as he watches Dave cook. 

“Tiger, you’re down an entire forearm’s worth of hair, and I think that fireball could be seen from the international space station.” 

“Klaus, I can’t even begin to comprehend what the fuck you’re talking about,” Dave can’t help but laugh and shake his head. He flips over a burger to check that it’s done before placing it onto the metal tray beside him.

Klaus just lets out a breathy laugh before flicking the ash of his cigarette onto the ground. He watches Dave load up the tray and holds his hands out to take one of the trays before they both walk over to the table and join the others. 

Doc looks over and includes them both into the conversation, “The holidays are coming up next week. You got any news from home?” 

Dave wipes some crumbs from his mouth as he swallows a bite. “Oh uh, my mom has just sent me a letter and candy bars, nothing special.” 

Klaus cuts in with a snort, “Assuming my family knows anything about my whereabouts, I think it would be pretty hard for them to send a care package.” 

Klaus continues on, mostly musing to himself as he carefully peels a piece of cheese off a burger patty, “Come to think of it, Five does have the means, but maybe not the motivation. I don’t think the little maniac has celebrated a holiday in his life.” 

Klaus says some truly off the wall shit sometimes, but this has taken the cake for Dave. Is he just supposed to sit here and let Klaus constantly deflect to avoid getting to know any of them? Getting to know him? 

The other men chuckle at Klaus’ eccentricity, but Dave watches him carefully. Klaus’ behaviour has been erratic lately, eating pep pills like they’re candy and - when those wear off so Klaus can finally sleep - he’s plagued by constant nightmares. Klaus has been irritable and twitchy, and it’s been a growing concern since seeing action in Dak To. 

Dave has been worried a while, but he's kept his mouth shut. Like a bucket sitting below a leaky tap, he has slowly but steadily been filled with drips of frustration and worry about Klaus' distance, his drug use, and how he runs away. Dave's confident that he's all in when it comes to their relationship, but he can't help but wonder if Klaus feels the same way. He's just about ready to overflow.

Klaus gets up to clear his tray, and Dave follows behind, chewing his lip thoughtfully. This could go any number of ways depending on how Dave plays things. He reaches out to touch Klaus’ elbow lightly and jerks his head towards the hooches where they all sleep. Klaus smiles lightly, unaware of the heavy thoughts that have taken up residence in Dave’s mind and walks shoulder-to-shoulder with Dave back to their sleeping quarters. 

Klaus is chattering away as they enter the little corrugated iron hut that they call home with the rest of their squad. The interior is adorned with letters and photos from home tacked up on the walls, and their cots made neatly with military precision. Dave’s area has a few pictures his mother has sent alongside photos he’s taken throughout his tour; some sketches and doodles he’s done while bored and feels mildly proud of; a few knick-knacks from their time on liberty are kept neatly above the head of his cot. 

On the other hand, Klaus’ bunk has no such personal touches that Dave can see except for the black briefcase he first appeared with seven months ago tucked away under the metal bed frame and Rocky on a small ledge above the head of his cot. Dave is starkly reminded again that he knows very little about Klaus outside of what he has experienced in Vietnam.

Dave lets Klaus prattle on about their upcoming applications for R&R, weighing up the pros and cons of where they should apply to. Dave feels vaguely sick to his stomach with nerves, and his mouth feels drier than the Sahara as he occupies himself with taking off his boots and placing them at the end of his cot. 

This problem has really crept up on him, and the significance of it has hit Dave like a ton of bricks. He is falling in love with a man he knows barely anything about. 

“Hong Kong is supposed to have the best shopping. Sarge said that he got loads of cool tech gear when he was there in September. What do you think?” Klaus turns to him expectantly. 

“Yeah, Spook, that sounds great…” Dave settles down on the floor and rests his back against his cot, long legs out in front of him, his left foot tapping nervously at the base of Klaus’ cot. 

Dave watches Klaus start slightly at his tone, and the man quickly scrambles to sit facing him, legs crossed and hand resting on Dave’s ankle. Klaus has cottoned on to Dave’s sour mood. “Is everything OK, Tiger? You have been pretty quiet since dinner.”

Klaus rubs his thumb comfortingly along Dave’s ankle bone while Dave contemplates how to handle this conversation. Thinking it might go easier if he has something to occupy his nervous, twitchy hands, Dave pulls out his tin of cigarettes and pats down his pockets for his lighter. 

“I know I’ve told you before that I’m not good at talking about feelings and shit…” he starts, flicking the flint of his lighter and concentrating on lighting his cigarette more than is warranted. 

Klaus’ eyes widen, and he waits expectantly, his free hand coming up to his mouth to chew his fingernails, a nervous tic that Dave has seen him do before. Fuck, he has started this, there’s nothing left to do but keep going now…

“I think we need to have a conversation, Klaus.” 

Klaus’s hand retracts from Dave’s leg and is instantly buried in the fabric of his vest; his elbow resting on his knee, withdrawn and protective. 

“Is - is it something I’ve done?” Klaus can’t seem to meet his eyes, looking just past Dave’s right shoulder. 

“No! I mean - I... I think there’s a few things that I need to say, and I really think you need to hear them before we go any further with -” Dave cuts himself off and waves his hand between them. 

“I lo- I _really_ like you, Klaus.” Dave takes a draw off his cigarette to steady his nerves. God, he’s such a chickenshit and a hypocrite too. Here he is taking Klaus to task for his secrets, but Dave can’t seem to tell the truth either. He stubs out his cigarette on the hard floor and braces himself for what he wants to say next.

“I really like you, and I think you need to know…I want you, you know? But Klaus, sometimes I-” 

“I’m gonna stop you right there,” Klaus’ voice is tight, but his mouth is set into a hard line, his face pinched and thumb hovering near his mouth. 

“I know how this goes Dave, this is the part where you tell me it’s been fun, but you need space, that you want someone who has their shit together… It’s OK, I get it. You aren’t the first, and you certainly won’t be the last.” 

Dave is reeling, scrambling for his brain to catch up. This is not how he thought this would go. He panics; Klaus won’t even look at him now and is getting up off the floor. “What? No, Klaus, that’s not what I’m saying-” 

“It really is OK!” Klaus lets out with a shaky breath as he moves over Dave’s outstretched legs, “I know what I’m like; I know that I’m a ‘small doses’ kind of person-”

“Klaus, no...wait!” Dave’s heart plummets like a rock, sitting heavy and sour in his gut. He reaches out his hand, striking fast; desperate to stop Klaus from leaving, he grabs for Klaus’ hand as he passes. Dave grips tight and pulls Klaus back towards him.

“I’m trying to tell you that I love you, you _asshole_!”

The words come out in a rush of breath, the confession leaving Dave feeling vulnerable in a way he’s never felt before. It’s terrifying, and his heart is beating like a drum inside his ribcage. Klaus has stopped dead in his tracks, hand limp in Dave’s grasp, looking down at him with an incredulous expression. 

“I.. what?” Klaus’ eyes are wide, jaw slack, and he sputters, “You... I’m sorry, what did you just say?” 

“I said, I love you.” Dave repeats earnestly, pulling on Klaus’ arm until the man folds himself back onto the floor beside Dave, collapsing down like a puppet with its strings cut. He keeps Klaus’ hand in his lap, palm up, and Dave looks down at the _hello_ tattooed on Klaus’ hand. He lightly traces the letters with his fingers, studying the thick black lines as they intersect the creases of Klaus’ palm. 

“Klaus, I love you… I just wanted you to know,” He looks up again to meet Klaus’ stunned face. “I love you..but sometimes, I feel like I barely know you.” 

Klaus’ face is inscrutable, and Dave is reasonably sure that if he makes one wrong move here, Klaus could bolt. He lets out a breath and forces himself to hold Klaus’ gaze despite his wary expression. 

Dave reaches a hand up to cup Klaus’ cheek, and Kaus is still watching him - guarded - waiting for the other shoe to drop. Dave leans in and places a soft, chaste kiss on Klaus’ lips. Klaus resists for a moment before he too melts into the kiss, and Dave feels Klaus turn his hand in his and grasp tightly, like Dave’s hand is a lifeline. 

Dave pulls back to rest his forehead against Klaus’, and he can feel the exhale of a sigh against his cheek. 

“I do… love you,” God, now that it’s out, Dave physically _can’t stop saying it_. “I’m not expecting you to say it back. But I just wanted you to know, I’m _all in_.”

Klaus has relaxed somewhat; his posture has loosened, and his shoulders have dropped away from his ears. He is smiling slightly and keeps a hold of Dave’s hand, threading their fingers together, palm-to-palm. 

“I know what it’s like to keep secrets,” Dave blurts out, “I know what it’s like to not trust the people you love to accept you for who you are. I don’t have a real relationship with my family, and I ran away to the Vietnam War to play martyr because I couldn’t handle the thought of being honest about who I am.” 

Klaus says nothing. He simply waits for Dave to finish; however, Dave can see the wheels turning inside his head as he processes what Dave is telling him.

Dave swallows thickly, tamping down his shame and regret before continuing. “I couldn’t be honest with them about being queer and I couldn’t face disappointing the people who love me.” 

Dave reaches out with his free hand to cup Klaus’ face, his thumb running along his cheekbone. He’s started this confession, so he may as well finish it now. “I would just hope that I’ve never done anything - said anything - that would make you feel like you couldn’t be honest with me, that you couldn’t trust me.” 

Klaus’ gaze shoots up from their clasped hands to Dave’s face, his brow furrowed again and chewing at his lip. Dave can see Klaus mentally weighing up his options before he speaks. 

“Dave, if I honestly thought that I could tell you this without you thinking that I’m a drug-fucked lunatic, I would.” Klaus is looking down again, watching Dave’s fingers tracing over the faded black tattoo of the umbrella on the inside of his left forearm.

“We’ve been through a lot together already, right? You know that I would have your back about anything. Try me.” Dave looks up from Klaus’ forearm and meets his eyes, “No matter what you tell me, Klaus, I’ll have your back about this too.”

Klaus lets out a breathy, nervous titter, his head lolling back on the edge of Dave’s bunk, his mouth in a grimace. “We’ll see.” 

Dave waits patiently as Klaus gathers his thoughts. He keeps his gaze pointed down at their hands and takes a deep breath.

“I see dead people.” 

Klaus bursts into high-pitched, anxious giggles; his head remains resting on the edge of the cot, but his hand comes up to fidget with his dog tags. What the actual fuck? Dave doesn’t get the joke, and he feels a spike of fury in his gut like molten lead. He’s just poured his heart out to Klaus, has laid _everything_ out on the table. And this is what Klaus comes back with? 

“That isn’t fucking funny, Klaus. I’m not laughing.” Dave wrenches his hand out of Klaus’ and gathers himself up quickly, his legs under him and ready to bolt. He’s made a huge mistake here, he’s seething at both Klaus and himself; Dave should have known that he would end up hurt and disappointed.

Klaus grabs him by the jacket, pulling him back down, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You don’t get the reference, but I’m telling you the truth. I see dead people.” 

Klaus is looking at him, face suddenly serious and green eyes wide and earnest. Dave feels the hurt twisting up his insides dissipate slightly at the vulnerable expression on Klaus’ face. If Klaus is willing to provide an explanation, Dave can stick around to hear it. He cautiously settles back down, ready to listen but also ready to get the hell out if Klaus thinks that Dave’s going to sit here and listen to more bullshit. 

“What do you mean, like hallucinations?” 

“No, I mean...I literally see ghosts. I have for as long as I remember. It’s a long, tragic backstory, real superhero stuff, but I’m totally serious.” Klaus’ eyes flick over to another part of the room. “Junior is here right now, he’s been following our squad around for weeks.” 

Dave follows Klaus’ gaze to an empty cot a few feet away before Klaus sticks out his tongue at thin air. 

“OK, just let me process this for a minute,” Dave rubs his forehead before resting his head in his hands and scrubbing them down his face. He has a headache. What the hell is he supposed to do here? Entertain whatever this? Klaus is obviously unhinged, and Dave does _not_ have the skill set to really deal with this properly. 

“You say that you can see ghosts?” 

Klaus nods. 

“And you can see Junior right now?” 

Klaus nods again, eyes wide and pleading. 

Dave sighs. “Tell me something that only Junior knows about me then.” 

Klaus looks over to the empty cot again expectantly, “Well? You want to lend a hand?” 

Dave just watches Klaus cock his head to the side like he’s listening to someone speak. _This is fucking wild._

He sees Klaus nod before turning to him with a quizzical look on his face, “Junior just said lightning bugs and then started laughing?” 

_Holy fucking shit._ Dave’s jaw drops, and his eyes widen; he is _floored._ How could Klaus _possibly_ know that?

“Really, lightning bugs? Tiger, what is he talking about?” Klaus looks over to Dave, a small hopeful smile on offer. Dave is busy gathering his last working brain cell, scrubbing a hand across his face as he tries to make sense of the fact that Klaus has been speaking with Junior’s _ghost._

“Spook, Junior and I never told anyone this story. Holy shit!” Dave looks to the empty cot again. 

“Yeah, he also says you’re a goddamn idiot, and you’re lucky he was around to look after your ass.” Dave chuckles slightly, his guard lowering again, and he grabs Klaus’ hand once more, looking down at the long, elegant fingers beneath his own stocky ones. 

“We were together in our AO, stationed on a ridge overlooking the valley - about a month before you arrived. We had been stuck there for days, and we were both bored as fuck, waiting for something to happen. I was on watch one night. Junior was trying to get some sleep when suddenly I could see _hundreds_ of lights in the valley below us. I thought for sure it was the NVA moving below us; they were coming right up the hill, and I was _shitting a brick_.” 

Dave lets out a small sigh, feeling a bit sad and nostalgic while talking about his friend, who he misses dearly. “I started shooting, and Junior nearly had a heart attack. He rolled over and started shooting into the valley too. I was ready to call for backup, Spook; there were _hundreds_ of them, but then Junior stopped and started laughing at me. I was a scared idiot and had lost my shit because some _lightning bugs_ were charging up the hill toward me.” 

His face feels hot, and Dave knows his ears have turned pink with embarrassment as he tells his secret to Klaus; a secret that Junior dutifully never told another soul until now. He looks over at the area where he assumes Junior is and feels a profound loss at knowing he’s here and not at rest. “I’m really sorry you aren’t ever gonna get your ticket home, buddy.” 

Klaus grips Dave’s hand even tighter, crushing his fingers slightly, and smiles sadly. Rubbing his thumb over the back of Dave’s hand, he declares, “Junior says it’s not your fault, Tiger, but he also said you’re basically fucked now that he’s not there to watch your back.” 

Dave huffs out a sad little laugh and rests his head against Klaus’ shoulder. He hears Klaus hiss at Junior to get the fuck out and give them some privacy for once. Dave nuzzles into Klaus’ throat slightly, seeking comfort after the tense conversation.

“I’m also sorry that I bottled all this up and then sprung all of it on you without any warning.”

“Eh, turns out we’re both shit at talking about feelings,” Klaus lets go of Dave’s hand and brings his arm up around Dave’s shoulders to card his fingers through the short curls just above Dave’s ear. Dave feels his shoulders relax and his eyes slip closed, he’s content to just sit and bask in Klaus’ presence and comfort until they’re disturbed by the other men returning for the night. They sit in companionable silence for a while longer before Klaus quietly opens up. 

His voice is soft and halting, unused to being open and transparent with anyone the way he is with Dave tonight. 

Dave sits and listens to his stories about his powers, his family and life in 2019. He takes it all in, eyes locked on the black briefcase under Klaus’ cot and thinking about how Klaus’ manner of arrival in their tent that night in May makes a lot more sense in context.

All of it sounds truly batshit, fucking crazy, and Dave’s going to need a good amount of time to fully process that the concept of time-travel is real, but he feels like things with Klaus have turned a corner tonight. 

Dave finally feels like he’s gotten under Klaus’ skin, just like Klaus has gotten under Dave’s. 

\------

Slang Glossary: 

REMFs: Rear Echelon Mother Fuckers; a soldier far from the front line, especially during the Vietnam War.

FOXHOLE: A hole dug in the ground as a temporary protection for one or two soldiers against enemy gunfire or tanks.

FUBAR: Fucked Up Beyond All Recognition

HOOCH: Vietnam War slang for a thatched hut or improvised living space (e.g., inside a sand-bagged bunker or improved foxhole  
NVA: North Vietnamese Army

**Author's Note:**

> There you have it!
> 
> I hope to have the second chapter up very soon :) 
> 
> If you feel like leaving a comment or kudos, I would be very appreciative. I need validation to live, please and thank.


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